


With A Crash

by PerpetuallyPerplexed



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Child Abuse, Childhood Friends, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death - Non-major, In my opinion the world needs more pirate AUs, Loneliness, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other: See Story Notes, Slow Build, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-01 16:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8631109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetuallyPerplexed/pseuds/PerpetuallyPerplexed
Summary: Kageyama is a lonely child from one of Goa Kingdom's noble families and Hinata is an orphan from the outskirts doing his best to look out for his younger sister. After a less than ideal first encounter, they become unlikely friends until Hinata is abducted by a navy press gang during the push to bolster naval forces in the war against piracy. Young Kageyama is devastated and blames himself for Hinata's abduction. When he learns, after years of searching, that the ship to which Hinata was consigned had been sunk in a pirate attack he uses his family connections and natural talent to fast-track himself into the naval ranks of command and begins his own personal vendetta against piracy, in particular, the pirate crew reported to have taken down Hinata's ship, the infamous Kurasuno Pirates.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm chronically obsessed with pirate AUs, honestly, I have one for almost every fandom I'm into, but this is the first time I'm attempting to publish one, and my first attempt at writing for Haikyuu!! in fact. In this fic, I've taken the One Piece universe, perhaps minus the devil fruit powers and other wacky shit (I haven't decided yet), and crashed it into the darker, more angsty pirate universe of Black Sails and thrown my favourite boys into the mix. 
> 
> At the moment I'm super into this story but I can't guarantee updates will be fast or regular because life and laziness happen. The first few chapters will set the scene for Kageyama and Hinata's childhood relationship, then I'll be jumping forward to when they are adults. Please check chapter notes for additional tags, warnings and so on.

A crash from the fireplace behind him caused Kageyama to jump, bumping the desk where he’d fallen asleep on top of the notes he’d been writing, overturning the ink pot, and undoing all his hard, though undeniably poor, work. The vase of flowers his governess had given him in a vain attempt to encourage him in his scholarship was also sent tumbling to the floor, cracking the vessel and spilling its contents. 

Rubbing his eyes, and unknowingly smearing his face with spilt ink, Kageyama squinted around briefly, it was late autumn and the low angle of the setting sun meant it shone squarely through his second-story window illuminating the damage in a warm orange glow. Cursing more colourfully than a boy of nine ought to know how, he turned around only to have fear grip him by the throat, stoppering the diatribe he’d been spewing more effectively than any scolding by his governess ever had. The creature that had crawled from his fireplace and was now hunched on the hearth clutching a spiked black weapon was something straight out of a nightmare. Kageyama tried to step backwards, only to be met with the mahogany desk at his back. The creature stood up, a shadow in human form, pitch black except for glowing amber eyes.

Kageyama wanted to shout, scream, run, but he found himself rooted to the spot under the creature’s fiery gaze. His mind screamed at him to run but his legs wouldn’t cooperate, it was all he could do to steel himself, to keep his bladder under control and his scuffed and bandaged knees from shaking. The creature contorted its face into a terrifying grin, baring brilliant white teeth, and Kageyama flinched as the creature collapsed to its knees, the room ringing with mirth as it laughed, and laughed, and laughed. 

It must have been at least a minute before Kageyama registered that this wasn’t the laugh of some tormented hell-born creature of nightmares, it sounded human; childish and bell-like, and perhaps the furthest thing from frightening he’d ever heard. Cracking open eyes he hadn’t noticed he’d been squeezing tight shut, he took a peek at the creature, now doubled over in its fits of laughter. His racing heart slowed and, growing bolder by the second, Kageyama truly began to analyse the figure before him. It was smaller than him, distinctly humanoid and, as he took in its form, he realised it had an unruly mop of black hair, not horns as he had thought at first terrified glance. It was, he also noticed, clothed in baggy overalls and a shirt; all the same pitch black as its skin.

As the adrenaline that had flooded his brain subsided and his wits, that were not always quick at the best of times, came back to him, he remembered a conversation he had overheard between the housekeeper and one of the maids, something about chimneys and cleaning. He felt a flush of embarrassment creep over him as realisation dawned.

He had just been scared, almost to the point of pissing himself, by a pint-sized chimney sweep who must have tumbled down by accident, and who was now, still, rolling around in fits of laughter on the hearth.

The fear that had been replaced by embarrassment quickly morphed to anger and he stomped over to the soot-blackened boy, whose laughter was subsiding although his face was streaked with tears of glee. Kageyama grabbed him by the hair and pulled hard. 

“Shut! Up!” he hissed as the chimney sweep flinched and whimpered under his rough treatment, only to look him in the face and burst out laughing all over again, “What the _hell_ is your problem!”

“You,” the boy tried and failed to compose himself, another fit of, now hoarse, laughter interrupting his reply. “Your, pfff “

 “MY WHAT!”

“Your, pfff-f-f-face!” The boy managed to choke out finally.

Kageyama released the boy’s hair, looking at his hands in disgust, they felt gritty from soot but on closer inspection, he realised they were also covered in black ink from his earlier spill. He whirled to face the full-length mirror that adorned the fine oak sideboard in the corner of the study. Sure enough, he looked ridiculous. Not only had he rubbed black ink around his eyes after his rather abrupt and messy awakening; he had also apparently fallen asleep over his notes and the wet ink had left a perfectly reversed print of the characters he had been practising, terrible handwriting and all, down the right side of his face. 

Fierce blue eyes blazing and face burning with renewed and redoubled embarrassment; Kageyama turned his anger back to the little chimney sweep who was now somewhat more composed and looking at the sooty mess around him.

 

-

 

Hinata took in the area around the fireplace, his fall from half way up the chimney had done him no damage but he had bought a cloud of soot down with him littering the hearth, only to be spread further by Hinata in his rolling fits of laughter.

 _Uh oh,_ he thought as he looked up into the face of the other boy again, swallowing another snort at the state of him. Not only had he made a complete and utter mess of his job, he had literally laughed in the young noble’s face, and he was clearly unhappy about it. 

Angry blue eyes bore into him. If looks could kill he’d surely be dead or at least severely crippled under the force of that glare. Then it hit him, with a cold surge of fear, that, glare or not, this boy probably could have him executed for such an act of disregard for a noble, and even if he didn’t, Hinata’s own master would probably whip him to within an inch of his life if not beyond should he get word of Hinata’s behavior.

 

-

 

As Kageyama glared he saw the full range of emotions flit like theatre across the boy’s face, he might have been dense when it came to his studies but he could read people well. Since few people other than the condescending nobles at his parents’ dinner parties dared talk with him, he largely contented himself with observing people. Even if he hadn't been particularly observant, the chimney sweep’s large amber eyes were so expressive that every passing emotion was broadcast as clearly as an announcement by megaphone.

Finally, the shifting emotions settled on fear, fear unlike anything Kageyama had ever seen before, the boy lowered his eyes and dropped to his knees, prostrating himself before Kageyama as apologies began spouting forth in such a rush that Kageyama could barely make out a word.

Hard blue eyes softened from glare to scowl as the boy raised eyes now brimming with tears to look at Kageyama, no longer a hint of mirth to be seen, and mumbled something that Kageyama didn’t catch.

“What?” He demanded.

“Please don’t kill me!”

It came out louder than either of them expected and Kageyama blinked in surprise. Kill him? Did this boy really think he would? Squinting sideways at his own reflection he supposed that perhaps the expression he wore was rather menacing, but still. Another whisper from the chimney sweep drew Kageyama’s attention back.

“What?” The boy cringed at his tone and Kageyama wished he had been a little less abrupt but he wasn’t sure he knew how.

“My sister needs me.” The boy repeated, softly but audibly.

Kageyama didn’t know what to say. Most people avoided him or were wary of approaching him, but he had never had someone look at him in genuine fear for their life. He was beginning to feel like the monster he had initially assumed the boy to be, and he didn’t like it.

He approached the trembling boy and shoved his shoulder lightly.

“Who said anything about killing you, stupid.”

He walked over to the door leading to the adjoining washroom and opened it before looking back. The boy was still on his knees his eyes on Kageyama glistening wetly as the tears began to fall.

“Thank you,” He murmured, “thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you.”

“Shut up,” Kageyama grumbled, self-conscious at the undeserved gratitude “just help me clean up before we both get into trouble.”

Kageyama filled the basin with water quickly scrubbing his hands and grabbing some towels from the small linen cupboard; there were only white ones that would surely never be white again after they were done with them but he shrugged and soaked a couple of them in the water before wringing them out and carrying them back to the study. 

The chimney sweep hadn’t moved, he threw an apologetic look at Kageyama, kicking a dirty toe against the heel of his other foot.

“I didn’t want to make it worse by moving around.” he said.

Grunting in acknowledgement Kageyama tossed a couple of wet towels in his direction and turned his attention toward the ink-stained writing desk. The wood of the desk was already stained and discoloured from previous spills, as well as having been defaced by Kageyama’s absentminded scribbling or carving during particularly boring study sessions. He decided to mop up the water and the fallen flowers first, using a dry towel to soak up the water from the wooden floor, then turn his attention to the splashes of ink on the floor, chair and desk. 

When he’d wiped up as much as he could see in the fading light he turned back to the hearth. The boy had cleaned, backing himself up into the large fireplace as he went, presumably so as not to risk undoing his hard work by tracking soot over the area again. He was now marooned there, crouched inside the large mouth of the fireplace. 

“Now what, idiot,” Kageyama asked.

The boy gave him a puzzled look. “Is it not good enough? I can do it ag–”

“I mean how are you going to get out,” said Kageyama.

“Huh?” The boy still wore a quizzical expression as though Kageyama was making no sense at all, “I’ll just climb back up of course." 

 _Oh._ Kageyama hadn’t thought of that. It wouldn’t do for him to trample soot all the way through the house he supposed. Something else was vying for attention in his head, and although the feeling had him nonplussed him, he realised he was, disappointed? At the thought of the boy disappearing again already.

“Ok then,” the boy turned to duck into the chimney, before turning back adding, “My name’s Hinata by the way. And you’ve still got ink all over your face.”

With a grin, short but blindingly warm, he ducked back into the chimney and shimmied out of sight, the small shower soot that rained down behind him and a strange feeling in Kageyama’s chest the only evidence left of his whirlwind appearance. 

 

Later, Kageyama would realise that this was the longest interaction he’d ever had with anyone close to his own age, but for now, he huffed and pushed whatever he was feeling aside. He wrapped the broken vase and wilting flowers up in the dirty towels. He knew full well that if the housekeeper found out about the mess she would be none too happy so, unsure what else to do, he climbed onto the desk and pushed the bundle out of the small upper window where it disappeared into the rose bushes below. No doubt the gardener would find it one day but Kageyama hoped he’d just discard the offending bundle rather than asking questions.

Kageyama turned back to where the little chimney sweep, Hinata, he’d said his name was, had disappeared. Since he was already a mess of soot and ink, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a look in the fireplace, he wondered absent-mindedly why he’d never thought of climbing up there before.

He’d been chided on multiple occasions for climbing out his window to play in the gardens below, or jumping into the tree that was just within reach, and then of course there was the time he had climbed up to the roof where he had been able to see the whole of Goa Kingdom, all the way to the ocean. After he’d been caught on the roof the housekeeper had ordered the main windows in the room to be welded shut.

Standing in the fireplace and looking up at the dim patch of light above, he resolved to try it one day soon. His foot nudged something and he noticed that Hinata had forgotten to take his chimney brush. Ducking out of the chimney Kageyama picked up the brush and wedged it behind the grate of the fire where no one would see it. He hoped the boy wouldn’t get in trouble for leaving it behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little insight into Hinata's childhood. Life has not been kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains physical abuse, panic attacks, and reference to past deaths. Read with caution if this is likely to bother you.

 

Hinata had gotten in trouble.

 

After scampering back up the chimney, he noticed the failing light, it was later than he had realised so he hastily approached the grounds keeper for his meager payment, not failing to notice the way the man held out the small pouch of coins at arms length, dropping it into Hinata’s hand before it got anywhere near his own, looking at the state of his skin with unveiled disgust.

Whatever, already running late and unwilling to mouth off, although tempted to remind the man that he was just a servant himself and little better than Hinata, he just nodded and hurried on his way. 

He ran through the streets of the elite district, not bothering to look around at the gasps of the nobles he passed by like a speeding shadow and slipping past the guards at the wall who didn’t even spare him a glance. They were more concerned with inspecting an incoming cart, several heavy sea chests had been removed and their contents was being combed through by the guards under the pretence of security, no doubt they were just being nosy. Normally Hinata would have been curious too, he loved seeing anything that came from outside their island kingdom, but he was late as it was and with the threat of an even more severe beating looming over him he dragged his eyes away from whatever wonders he might have seen and sprinted on. Soon he was making his way through the central district, eventually reaching the outskirts, where he scaled a drainpipe and took to the rooftops to avoid the crowded streets.

-

He had barely set foot inside the door of the orphanage when he was met with a sharp smack to the back of the head.

“Why’re you so late?” The ‘caretaker’ on duty demanded.

 “I…” Hinata opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a slap to the face.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses,” she said brusquely, “now give me the money.”

Hinata fished the coin purse from the pockets of the too-big overalls that hung off him, accentuating his small and malnourished frame, placing it in the outstretched hand and watching quietly as the coins were all counted meticulously and returned to the purse by the surly woman.

“Fine,” she said, “now hand over your brush and get out of my sight.”

His empty hands now all too apparent, Hinata realised he must have left his brush in the noble boy’s room. He swallowed and dropped his gaze to the hole in the toe of his left boot. 

“Well?” said the caretaker.

“I,” he floundered, “I was in a hurry. I must have left it behind. I’m sor– ”

He was cut off as the hand holding the coin purse connected with his right cheek, the blow left him with the taste of blood in his mouth, blinking away bright spots from his vision.

“With me. Now.”

Hinata was grabbed roughly by the collar and let himself be dragged along behind her.

- 

Half an hour later he limped to the bathroom to clean the soot off as best he could and rinse the blood from his mouth. He slipped into too small pyjamas and made his way to the dormitory, face swelling from the initial blow and backside aching from the cane he’d received after, but grateful all the same that it had been a caretaker on duty rather than the orphanage master. What he’d gotten off with was light in comparison to the punishments he usually doled out.

In spite of his aches, he couldn’t keep himself from smiling painfully at the little lump nestled under the sheets in his bed.

“Natsu,” He whispered, giving the lump a little nudge. “Natsu, you’ll get in trouble if they catch you in here again.”

His sister poked her bright red head out from under the blankets.

“Nii-san,” she blinked at him “I was worried.”

She took in his grubby swollen face and gently raised a hand to his purpling cheek.

“Are you ok?” she asked.

Hinata nodded, the rising welts on his backside protesting as he lowered himself gingerly to the bed and put an arm around his five-year-old sister. He hated making her worry; she already had too many troubles for someone so young. He was at least glad that she had been given a job in the orphanage infirmary, where the nurse was kind and she didn’t have to spend each day filling her lungs with soot and ash like he did. They were both lucky, he knew, to be allowed two meals a day and a roof over their heads. He’d take a lung full of soot and a beating any day if he meant he could make sure his sister was afforded these small luxuries.

After all, he knew what it was like to go without them.

He barely remembered his parents when they were alive, and he didn’t want to remember their miserable deaths. The hunger, that’s what Hinata remembered most vividly. Hunger, cold, and the tiny baby he’d give anything to protect.

“Go on now, I’ll be alright. You should go back to bed.”

Natsu nodded reluctantly and Hinata placed a gentle kiss on her head before giving her a small push and a fond smile as she got up and headed back to the girl's dormitory.

 

_\- Five years earlier -_

 

He’d been kicked from the steps of the tumbledown church where he’d taken shelter from the biting rain. The week’s beggings in his threadbare pocket a promise of a crust of bread and some milk come morning if they could just make it through the night.

His dirt crusted jacket was wrapped around the miraculously sleeping baby in his arms, leaving Hinata in nothing but his trousers and undershirt, shivering violently eyes peeled for somewhere, anywhere that he could squat without being throw unceremoniously into the street once again. Street urchins and beggars like Hinata were considered an all too common pest in the outskirts of town, the plague having left many adults feeble, jobless and penniless, and many children without homes or parents.

On the brink of collapse Hinata huddled in the entrance of what looked like a school, and curled himself around the tiny bundle in his arms, offering her what extra shelter he could.

-

He didn’t remember being taken inside. Didn’t know how much time had gone by since he had passed out, exhausted and freezing. His first instinct was to grope for the sister who had barely left his arms since he’d abandoned the death filled shack that used to be their home more than three months ago. 

She wasn’t there.

Panic drove him to his feet, wild eyes scanning an unfamiliar room. He ran, frantic now, looking everywhere but taking in nothing of the unfamiliar environment, concerned only with finding his sister. Tumbling from door to door, room to room, he felt his world crumbling. His world had been reduced to Natsu, and now she was nowhere to be found. He spun around, looking up and down a corridor, chest rising and falling erratically, it was becoming more and more difficult to breathe, his breaths coming only in short gasps, but he ran on anyway, up a flight of stairs and down another long passageway, flinging open doors and overturning furniture in desperation.

Bright spots were beginning to dance at the edges of his vision when suddenly he was brought to a choking stop by someone grabbing his collar. He fell to the ground and fumbled around clumsily, trying to regain his feet and breath, but the air wouldn’t make it to his lungs no matter how hard he tried. A ringing filled his ears and the last thing he saw before he passed out was a pair of scuffed black shoes.

-

When he woke again Hinata immediately flew into a renewed panic, but before he could stumble from his bed a pair of gentle calloused hands reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders pushing him back firmly. Although he flailed and fought as much as he could, in his weak, malnourished state he could do nothing and began hyperventilating again, the ringing in his ears returning. He barely registered the gentle shushing of the woman beside him, nor the young boy who she sent running from the room. He did notice, however, when the boy returned, a small bundle in his arms.

Hinata stilled his thrashing and the woman removed her hands to take the baby from the boy. As she brought it closer and Hinata saw the small thatch of red hair and peaceful sleeping face, relief washed over him like a tide. Suffocating in the intensity of his relief he dry heaved over the edge of the bed and his arms collapsed as the adrenalin wore off. There he lay, so weak he could barely move, but unable to keep a smile from his face.

His world had returned to its axis. Mind no longer spinning out of control Hinata began to register the room around him, light filtered in from dirty high windows illuminating the infirmary, its stone walls lined with metal framed beds clothed in ageing grey-white sheets, like the one Hinata now occupied. Still gasping for breath he noticed that the young boy who had brought Natsu in was sitting beside him gently rubbing his back. He hadn’t had anyone reach out to him in kindness since before his parents fell ill and he had almost forgotten what it felt like. It felt nice.

 

-

 

Life in the orphanage wasn’t all gentle touches and kindness, it was also black eyes and the cane across his hands and rear, but most importantly it was food and shelter, it was not living in fear that every day could be his or Natsu’s last. Despite its shortcomings, it was relief.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor little rich kid.

 

Kageyama was back at his writing desk the following day; no one seemed to have noticed anything amiss in the room. When his governess had commented that the flowers were gone and he’d told her honestly that he didn’t like them and that he thought flowers were stupid. After that she didn’t mention it again, although she did become stricter and worse tempered than usual. Kageyama didn’t care; it wasn’t as though he enjoyed his tutoring sessions anyway.

Now that she was gone and he was alone his mind drifted back to his unexpected visitor from yesterday.

The servant boys and girls trembled when they served him, and averted their eyes when he passed them in the halls, while the noblemen’s children were a bore, when they talked they talked about nothing, and the first and only time he had tried to play with one of them the boy had ended up tripping over and wouldn’t stop crying until his nurse came to collect him, while Kageyama’s own nurse had scolded and spanked him then confined him to his rooms for three days. But the chimney sweep, _Hinata_ , he mouthed the name in thoughtful silence; he had been different. He had looked him right in the face, and, Kageyama could still scarcely believe it, he had laughed.

Kageyama didn’t think he’d ever heard anything like it. It wasn’t the forced laughter he heard around his parents’ dinner table, and it wasn’t the malicious laughter he’d heard when he’d seen another noble child kick a puppy. Neither was it the bawdy laughter he heard from the sailors when he accompanied his family to the docks for the launch of the ship they had commissioned. It had been light, natural and uncalculated, like the sound of the birds he liked to watch from his window. Kageyama couldn’t remember a time when he had laughed like that, and perhaps he never had, but now he found himself wishing he could. 

Leaving his desk and standing in front of the mirror he looked intently at his own face. Surely it couldn’t be hard; after all, he had learned to climb a tree in only a day, his ability to learn new things, excluding his schoolwork, was one of the few things he was really proud of. He experimented, baring his teeth in an attempt to imitate the expression he’d seen on Hinata’s face. It looked unnatural and more than a little frightening. Kageyama blushed and his expression crumpled back into a scowl of embarrassment even thought there was no one else around to see him. He pushed his chair over to the door and wedged it under the handle to make sure it stayed that way.

Back in front of the mirror, Kageyama tried again.

And again.

And again.

He tried adding the sounds, quietly so as not to attract the attention of any of the servants, but it did nothing to help. Frustrated he gave up, kicking the sideboard, retrieving the chair from under the door handle, and stomping back over to his desk.

After that he made a valiant effort to copy out notes as his governess had instructed him to, his failure at smiling and laughing leaving him determined to at least achieve something this afternoon. By the time his nurse came to tell him to get ready for dinner he was surprised at how much he’d managed to get through.

His nurse tugged at his collar and scrubbed his face with her handkerchief much harder he was sure, than was necessary, he scrunched up his face in protest but let her do it. Truth be told, even though he was almost taller than her despite being only ten years old, he was still a little scared of the old woman, especially so after she had twisted his ear ruthlessly, and threatened him with much worse when she found him watching as she slipped one of his mothers jeweled necklaces into her pocket. Even years later his ear twinged at the memory.

 

Dinner was the usual formal affair, even when it was just the three family members at the dinner table, Kageyama’s parents accepted no lack of propriety. Kageyama had been schooled in etiquette for as long as he could remember, a good portion of his studies consisted of the various banalities of acceptable, high-society behaviour, but he was still consistently miserable at it.

Kageyama had learned from experience that his attempts at engaging in conversation only ended up with him being scolded, if it was his nurse or governess, or receiving indulgent looks from his parents before they went back to effectively ignoring him. As a result, he rarely spoke except to answer direct questions during lessons, or to answer the trivial questions from his parents and their guests, mostly about his studies, which seemed to be the only thing they could think of to talk to him about.

Young as he was, Kageyama had come to realise that no one cared about what he thought as much as they cared about him going through the motions, just another accessory in another perfect household.

 

Performance complete, Kageyama hurried back upstairs, where he knew a bath had been drawn and was waiting for him. This was probably his favourite part of the day, other than when he was allowed out to play in the garden. He would sit in the tub for more than an hour, until his skin was thoroughly wrinkled, conducting battles with the small wooden ships that had been a gift from his uncle.

His uncle Ukai wasn’t actually related by blood, he had been married to his mother’s sister who had died before Kageyama was born. Ukai was a commander in the navy so they didn’t see him often but Kageyama could tell his parents didn’t like him by the way their smiles and conversation became even more forced when they were obligated to invite him to dinner whenever he returned from a period at sea. Kageyama didn’t understand their distaste; until yesterday his uncle had probably been the only person Kageyama had ever met whom he found even remotely interesting. When he talked he talked about the sea, and far away places, and other things that Kageyama couldn’t comprehend but sounded exciting.

An objective opinion would have been able to tell him that at least part of the reason for his parents’ dislike was probably attributable to the selection of choice words Kageyama had picked up from him.

Kageyama was in the middle of a particularly intense battle between the navy and a vicious pirate crew over the twin islands of his knees when his nurse returned armed with a towel and demanded he got out. Sinking down so that only his eyes and forehead were showing he stuck his tongue out at her beneath the water.

“Kageyama, _don’t_ make me drag you out,” she threatened.

With a huff he reluctantly stepped out of the tub and let her towel him off aggressively, he knew if he refused any further she’d take his ships again. He’d only been allowed them back last time because he’d whined to his parents and they’d allowed it on the condition that next time they’d be gone for good.

 

All dried off, he was stuffed into starchy pyjamas and escorted to his bedroom, the nights were becoming colder so the fireplace in his room had been lit and his bed had been heated with warming pans while he was bathing. His nurse pulled up the blankets around him and tucked the sheets in firmly while Kageyama burrowed into his plush cushions, then she extinguished his bedside lamp and bustled around for a few more minutes in the light of the dying fire, laying out clothes ready for tomorrow. Kageyama pretended to fall asleep but sat up after he heard the click of the door and counted ten fading footsteps as she made her way to her own small bedroom just down the hall.

He pushed back the bedclothes and shimmied his way up one of the poles of his bed posts, perching on the cross rail at the foot of the bed where he had the best view out the full-length window on the other side of the room. Over the dark line of the elite district wall, he could just see the lights of the shipping lanes in the harbour winking as though to an unheard syncopated rhythm.

He liked sitting up here, where he could pretend he sat amongst the sails and rigging of a ship like one of his bath toys as it made its way out to sea. He wished he could climb higher, and perhaps spot the lighthouse he knew lay just out of view or even the lights of the ships at anchor in the bay. He looked at the fireplace, cursing the cold weather and the embers in the grate as he thought, not for the first time that day, about what it would be like to climb up it, and how much better the view would be from up there.

Keeping his eyes on the hypnotic lights of the harbour he let himself lose track of time until he found himself beginning to nod off. With a sigh he reluctantly slipped back down the post and into bed, where he fell asleep watching the embers dance and slowly die out in the grate of the fire, thinking all the while about how they looked a little bit like a familiar pair of laughing eyes.


End file.
